A child's laughter. A playground. A library. My brain. A cornfield. A basement, especially one with dim lights. A rest stop. A 24 hour diner. Gas stations. The halls of a hospital - after all, who knows how many spirits remain within the confines of a hospital? Trails cutting through heavily wooded areas. An empty bar. A lake with nobody around, reflecting the sky above. An airport. The sky, exchanging the brilliance of one star for a dark expanse with many far away pinpricks of light. The dying echoes of whispered conversations and dancing smoke of a burnt out candle.
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From the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows: Aulasy: n. The sadness that there’s no way to convey a powerful memory to people who weren’t there a...
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Three am is the hour of creative souls - Poets, dreamers, artists, writers - People whose feelings, views, thoughts - How they see th...
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No. We’ve served long enough. Enough in free labor, in the form of maid, laundry service, cook, caretaker. Broken down and beaten, ignored, ...
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